MacLeod | Toronto Dog Photographer

MacLeod | Toronto Dog Photographer

shih tzu smiling

“Blessed is the person who has earned the love of an old dog.” – Sydney Jeanne Seward

I loved this dog.

It has taken me a while to write this post. A week to be exact. Seven days. Almost 168 hours since we’ve said good-bye. And I still can’t believe that MacLeod is gone. Because he didn’t live with us – he belonged to my family – it is still easy for me to imagine him snoring loudly in his sleep at my sister’s or parent’s place. At 15 years of age, he did do a lot of sleeping. And snoring.

But, it wasn’t always that way. MacLeod and his sister, Anthea, came to our family when they were both wiggly, little shih tzu puppies, both from the same litter. Like any puppy out there, they were both unbelievably cute. And although I loved Anthea and her love of exploration, it was MacLeod that was my favourite.

MacLeod, aka Mackie, Big Mac, Maxster, Mister Magoo, was a character. He was your everyman’s dog. He had no airs about him, took you at your word and had a ‘what-you-see-is-what-you-get’ way about him. He loved people, playing, balls and getting dirty. All the while being gorgeous.

Somehow, over the years, I had become  “Auntie Karen” to MacLeod. When he would hear those two words, he would get beside himself with excitement, whining and crying in anticipation. So much so, my family would not tell him I was coming to visit until I was less than 10 minutes away. When I would finally arrive, he would be there, ready to greet me at the door. And then, he would look up at me, turn his mouth up at the corners and give me an honest-to-goodness ‘grin’. After the initial fuss, he would turn his attention to my belongings and go through my bags in hopes of finding a treat, a new ball or something else wonderful that he was sure I had brought for him. And, when I finally settled in a chair to rest, there he would be – climbing on my lap and resting on my leg.

Time, of course, marches on. To see him get older, and less playful was hard. But when he got sick, I was heartbroken. My friend wasn’t the same. Getting up to greet me was difficult – laying back down was harder. There was no more joy in the thought of playing with a ball. And no more grin.

And so last week, my sister made the decision that the time had come to let MacLeod go. And we gathered, as we have for all our family’s pets, to say our good-byes. I had promised him I would be there when the time came, and I made good on that promise by holding his paw gently as he found peace.

While it is still hard to believe he is gone, I am so happy he came into our lives and that he allowed us to share him for a little while. Thank you Mackie. Please know we will miss you always.

I loved this dog. I still do.

shih tzu in bowtie

 

Ripley | Toronto Pet Photographer

Ripley | Toronto Pet Photographer

I really cannot believe that the day has arrived when I have to write this. And if I press “publish”, it will somehow be more final. It hurts too much, so I will try to say it quickly and simply.

Today, at 8:59 a.m., we sent Ripley, our 17.5 year old tabby on his final journey. With as much love as he could bear.

I, personally, have never had the weight of such a decision on my shoulders and I am not sure that either my husband, Dean, or I handled it well. In other words, we were (and are) a mess.

We had no idea that Ripley was even sick until we took him to his vet this past Wednesday morning. What we had erroneously thought to be a little bit of constipation or issues with his anal glands, turned out to be far more serious. In fact, that was not an issue at all. After x-rays and an ultrasound, we were shown that most of his organs were in some state of failure. And his poor, little heart was really only in a constant state of fibrillation, and therefore not pumping vital blood and oxygen to the other parts of his body. Add to that, he had a very serious arrhythmia which put his whole system under additional stress. Hearing this, we decided not to contemplate any heroic measures, but to simply treasure whatever remaining time we had with him. So, at our request, his vet was able to stabilize him enough that we could take him home with us Thursday evening, along with some medication to make him comfortable.

Ripley seemed to be happy to be home Thursday night, but by Friday we knew something was horribly wrong. He could not sleep. He never did eat since returning from the hospital and he shifted his position often as if he was uncomfortable. We watched him and stroked him and cried over him until we knew that we had to make the final gesture to help him.

This morning, Ripley woke me up by pawing gently at my leg. I tried one last time to feed him, which he refused. So, Dean and I began the process of getting ready to take him on his final car ride. I truly believe that Ripley knew the time had come. He seemed to go through a routine to look at all of his favourite places. But when he stopped to nuzzle and kiss his sister, Lady Jane, it made our hearts stop. They had a quiet “moment” when I think he said his good-bye.

At the vet this morning, we held him and told him what an incredible boy he had been. He was from the Toronto Humane Society so, yes, Ripley was a rescue. He was a year old when we got him and were privileged to have loved him for over 16 years. And, even though his physical heart failed him in the end, he loved us until his final breath.

I do not quite know how I will get over the loss of feeling him sleeping on my feet every night of his life, or the way he would truly cuddle you when picked up. I have many, many photographs that will remind me of what he looked like, but I fear that I will forget the sound of his “voice” when he would talk. And his beautiful eyes…everyone remarked on his his lovely eyes. At this point, I am simply hoping that the huge hole left in my heart will slowly heal.

Ripley, I cannot write enough words to tell you how much you are missed. Not a day will go by when we will not think of you and remember how incredibly wonderful you were. I hope, in the end, you simply understood and felt how much you were loved. 

Go gently into that good night, my boy…

A special thank-you to the vets and staff of Westbridge Veterinary Hospital in Mississauga, Ontario. And especially to Dr. Cathy Buller who has been Ripley’s primary vet since the day we brought him home. Having you there at the end, made it just a bit easier.

Orange tabby on bed in Toronto, Canada